


Soft Things For Sharp Edges

by Not_You



Series: The Zen And Art Of Getting Naked To Music [7]
Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Comeplay, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, POV Alternating, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Safeword Fail, adults using their words, curt feels more broken than he is, flash is very upset, internalized ableism, not totally relevant here but still, very light humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flash is really glad that Curt is there for him to call after a scene with Peter goes pear-shaped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Curt is always annoyed when people call while he's working, but it's long after business hours and the ringtone is the pattering rain and soft thunder assigned to Flash. Flash never calls him, and Curt has terrible visions of Peter in an intensive care ward in the time it takes him to pick up.

“Yes?” he says, trying not to sound too breathless or harried.

“Curt?” And any of Curt's worries about himself are drowned out by that small, waterlogged voice.

“Dearest, what happened?” He says, wishing for the millionth time (today) that he still had his right arm or that he wasn't too broken for a prosthetic as he struggles to hold onto the phone and to get at least some of his papers into his briefcase.

“I fucked up real bad,” Flash says, sniffling and taking a deep breath, fighting to keep the wobble out of his voice and losing. “Peter's hiding from me and I kinda wanna die.”

Curt bites back an automatic, strident demand to not even say that, and says, “I'll be there within twenty minutes, darling. Wrap up in a blanket and drink some water and remember that you're a good boy even when you make mistakes.”

“Yessir,” Flash whimpers, and doesn't hang up until Curt says that he has to. Even with both hands he never felt safe maintaining a phone conversation and driving at the same time, and going into the ditch or worse on his way over won't help at all. He tells himself as he drives that if it was anything really bad, Flash wouldn't let Peter hide from him. This isn't Flash trying to use the single tail even though Curt told him he needs more practice, or Peter's extremities going blue and cold in bad bondage.

Peter loves being called a slut and a whore, likes being used and manhandled and slapped around, but maybe today was just the wrong day. Maybe there's some terrible secret that Flash touched without meaning to. Curt has accidentally brought up bad memories in previous partners. It has to be one of the worst feelings in the world, and that's talking from the other side of wartime service, a traumatic amputation, and PTSD of his own. He skims through a yellow light, and pulls up to Flash's building in about five more minutes. It feels so much longer that waiting for the elevator is torture. There's a wild urge to just run up the stairs, but Flash lives on a high enough floor and Curt is old enough that it really isn't feasible.

Instead Curt takes the elevator like an adult, and locates Flash's door. He knocks gently, since the buzzer has a harsh, jarring sound, and in seconds Flash has the door open and is engulfing him in an enormous, blanket-wrapped hug. They shuffle inside and get the door closed behind them and Curt drops his briefcase to stroke Flash's hair, making soothing noises as he herds him to the couch. Flash sits down and arranges Curt in his lap, clinging to him and starting to sniffle again. Curt kisses the top of his head.

“Poor boy. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

Flash struggles to obey, but at last says, “He red-lighted and I didn't hear him,” voice cracking halfway through. Curt sighs deeply, because that's what hand signals are for, but now is not the time.

“Where is he? Even if he's still scared, he should realize by now that it was an accident.”

“Bathroom,” Flash mutters, and Curt goes to fetch Peter.

There's no light under the locked door, but when he says, “Peter, darling, speak to me,” Peter does.

“Curt?” He sounds dismal and confused, but less actively rattled than Flash. “I can't believe he called you.”

“I'm glad he did,” Curt says softly, putting his hand to the door. “You can certainly stay in there if you want, but we should both be glad of your company.”

He sighs. “Flash is freaking out, isn't he?”

“A bit, yes. I'm taking care of him if you need to be alone, though, dear. Don't worry.”

“I'll be out in a minute,” Peter says, and Curt thanks him for the conversation and tells him to take his time. He goes back to Flash and holds him for another few minutes before Peter emerges from the bathroom. He's wrapped up in a sheet, and his eyes are puffy. A few weeks ago Curt had let them know that if they ever call him Daddy he will leave immediately and not come back without a sincere apology and possibly flowers, but right now he does sort of feel the way he does when Billy is hurt or sad. These are his precious boys, and they're so upset. He reaches out to Peter with his left arm, the stump of the right clasping Flash to his chest. “Come here, sweetheart.” Peter obeys, cuddling in on the other side of Curt, a wide-eyed, wild-haired little bundle. “There,” Curt says, stroking Peter's hair and turning to kiss the top of Flash's head, “there, my darlings. It's all right.”


	2. Chapter 2

Flash still kinda wants to die, but it's better now. At least Peter is willing to be anywhere near him, and Curt is being all soothing at them both. Now that he can think about it, Flash shudders all over at the idea of not having someone like Curt to call, and hides his face in the side of his neck.

“Glad we have you,” he mutters.

“And I'm glad I have you,” Curt says, still so soft and so gentle. “Now. What happened?”

Peter sighs. “We didn't have a hand signal because we're idiots and Flash didn't hear me safeword the first time and I kinda freaked out.”

“You freaked out a _lot_ ,” Flash says, and he hates how weak and watery his voice sounds.

Peter sighs, sounding tired and resigned. “Yeah, I did. Sorry, man.”

“Fuck sorry!” Flash snaps, “Are you okay?” The hugs and everything have been a help, but he still feels like he's been hollowed out with a fucking ice cream scoop, and he's almost past being humiliated when his tears well up again. Curt makes soothing noises at him and Peter reaches over to squeeze his hand.

“Yeah, I'm okay.” He smiles sadly. “Sorry I wrecked it.”

“Stop that!” Flash wails, and hides his face in Curt's chest as he fights to get some kind of grip on himself. Curt kisses the top of his head and hushes him.

“I'm saying sorry because I'm pretty sure you're more upset than me,” Peter says softly. “Once I could just sit in the bathroom and be quiet for a while, I was okay.”

“Okay,” Flash says, scrubbing at his eyes. He feels like he should apologize again, but just the thought of his own mouth shaping the pathetic, useless words 'I'm sorry' makes him want to really start crying again. “Okay,” he says instead, talking to himself more than anyone. “Okay.”

Curt just holds them for a long time after that, but finally makes them get up and put on bathrobes and wash their faces while he rattles around in the kitchen. There's only the one bathroom, but they can share it without freaking out again, and as they emerge Peter takes Flash's hand. His chest tightens up with weepiness again, but he swallows it down and just squeezes Peter's hand. Curt points at the kitchen table, and they sit down, chairs pulled close together along the edge. A moment later, Curt sets a cup of hot chocolate in front of each of them before settling down across from them with one of his own. He studies them in silence for a moment with an expression that is somehow very teacherish and actually kinda hot and it's fucked up that Flash can feel this fucked up and emotional and still kinda horny.

“So. What happened?”

Peter sighs. “I had my face too much in the pillow and my back got cricked wrong and Flash put too much weight on a pole bruise and it hurt a lot and in none of the good ways and I didn't safeword loud enough the first time, so for about two seconds I was really scared.” He glances over at Flash. “Seriously, I would have come out in like, five, ten minutes.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that?” Flash snaps, and has to blink hard, feeling wobbly and strange. “I thought I had really hurt you and I was so scared and you weren't saying anything, so I fucking called Curt!” He's yelling by the end of the sentence and he's tense and trembly because he doesn't want to yell and he's such an asshole. 

“Baby, baby, please,” Peter says, putting his arms around Flash and holding him close, “don't be like that, I'm sorry. And I'm not sorry for messing it up this time but for not realizing how scared you were. Ssshhh.”

Flash clings to Peter for a while, but they eventually recover enough to drink their cocoa before it gets cold. The whole time, Curt is watching them over the rim of his mug, and it should feel totally awkward and weird but it doesn't. It feels good, like someone here knows what the fuck he's doing.

“Calmer now?” Curt says, and Peter grins at him, still holding Flash's hand.

“Yeah. Thanks, teacher.”

In the same conversation where Curt had told them to not even joke about calling him Daddy, he had blushed and squirmed and evaded for a while before admitting that yes, 'teacher' works for him. He blushes now. “You're welcome.” Now he has that nervous look like he thinks he's intruding, and Flash really wishes the table wasn't in the way.

“...Is it weird that I wanna take both of you back to bed?” Flash says, and Peter laughs.

“Get right back on that horse!” He kisses Flash's cheek as he protests that he meant that completely literally, at least at first. “I know, but neither of us got off and I know us.” He looks to Curt. “Please, come help me cuddle Flash some more.”

“How could I possibly refuse?” Curt says softly, and tells them to go ahead, that he'll be along once he's washed the dishes. It's kind of annoying, but Curt has clearly Seen Some Shit and Flash will put up with any little thing that helps keep him on an even keel.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter is still a little shaky, but he's better off than Flash, who clutches Peter to his chest like someone might take him away. Peter lets himself be clutched and nuzzles Flash's shoulder, telling him again and again that he loves him and that he had only been scared because he had been so far down, and he had only been that far down because of how fucking good it is with Flash, how truly safe he feels.

By the time Curt comes to join them, Peter is half out of his robe and half into Flash's, murmuring encouragement into his ear as he jacks him slowly, working him from half-hard to mostly hard. He's enjoying the feel of Flash, so thick and soft in his hand, and smiles when he sees Curt standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and a little flushed.

“There you are,” he says, and Curt smiles faintly.

“Here I am,” he admits, and comes to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I can't believe you still have your shirt on. Fix that immediately,” Peter says, still working Flash, who bucks and groans and then flushes all over.

“You know,” Curt says, pausing to haul his shirt off over his head and hang it over the footboard of the bed, “you seem to have a very submissive streak in your nature, Flash.”

“Sh-shit, I gotta deal with a new kink now?”

Peter laughs. “I dunno if it's new. You did only start really liking me after I publicly humiliated you.”

Flashes face goes from pink to red, and he puts his forearm over his eyes, muttering, “Dammit.”

Curt chuckles, skillful left hand unbuckling his belt. Peter is on Flash's left side, so once Curt is down to his old-man full-coverage briefs he can arrange himself on Flash's right, propped on his right shoulder, his hand free to slide up Flash's chest and rest palm down over his heart.

“Do you want to be our good boy?” Curt murmurs into his ear.

“Yes, teacher,” Flash whines, and Curt lets out an audible gasp. He pinches Flash's nipple in what is probably equal proportions reward and retribution and Flash groans, hardening completely in Peter's hand. “Oh...” he whimpers, “oh fuck teacher _please_...”

“Please what, sweet boy?” Curt coos, and Peter shivers, putting his thigh over Flash's so he can grind along it and kiss Flash's panting mouth before he answers.

“Please more,” Flash whispers, and then cries out as Curt lowers his head and sucks on Flash's nipple, still pinching and very gently twisting the other one as Peter squeezes his cock a little more tightly.

“Am I allowed to make him come, sir?” Peter asks, and Flash moans, writhing under them.

“Not just yet,” Curt says, and kisses Flash roughly, pinching harder before breaking away to suck on that nipple and pinch the one already wet from his mouth as Flash whimpers, his eyes huge. “Yes,” Curt growls, biting his neck and making his way up to the line of his jaw, “yes, just like that. Such beautiful eyes, Flash. They show me everything.” He kisses the corner of Flash's eye and Flash lets out this pathetic, quavery little whine Peter has never heard from him before. He moans, and hides his face in Flash's shoulder for a moment before reaching into the nightstand and grabbing the lube. 

Flash is embarrassed at how much he loves getting fingered, so half the time he distracts Peter from it before he can really get started, but right now Flash is the distracted one, mewling into Curt's mouth and clutching at his hair with one hand and at Peter's back with the other. He's digging his nails into Peter, and it feels wonderful. It's not enough to derail him, though, and soon he's working two slick fingers into Flash as he cries out, mouth too lax to kiss Curt back anymore. He's blushing again, much darker than the light flush sex always gives him, and whines, “Please, teacher, don't,” as Curt forces him to look into his eyes, but he doesn't safeword and his cock twitches as he draws his knee up to give Peter better access.

“But I need you, precious,” Curt hisses, his hand loosely gripping Flash's throat in a casual, possessive way that makes Peter whimper quietly, wanting to feel it for himself. “God, you're so pretty. So pretty and such a good boy, letting Peter open you up and I need to see your beautiful eyes while he stretches your hole.”

Peter whines, smearing precome all over Flash's thigh as he eases a third finger in, and Flash sobs, staring into Curt's eyes and telling him how good it feels, how deep Peter is and how every time it's better than he remembers, his voice breathy and thin, cracking as he starts begging Curt to be allowed to come. Curt kisses him, long and deep and sloppy, whispering, “Yes, yes, you may, my good boy.” He reaches down and grips Flash's cock and Flash is gone, bucking under them and crying out as he comes so long and so hard that it must be a personal record. Peter hardly lasts a minute longer, rutting against Flash's thigh until he comes all over it, making Flash shudder.

Curt puts his arm around both of them and just holds them and praises them until he can't stand it anymore and asks Flash's permission to ejaculate on him. He says it like that too, and Flash grins up at him. “Sure thing, teach. Anywhere you want.”

Peter doesn't feel much like moving, but it's well worth it to shift enough for Curt to straddle Flash's chest, standing on his knees over him and balancing beautifully where Peter would be propping himself up against the headboard with his free hand. He shudders and gasps and finally cries out, the sound shocking in how loud and helpless it is as he spatters Flash's chest.


End file.
